The churning of fresh yellow golden cow's butter, from her udder, under her torso, squeeze, please. A drip a drop, a squirt, an early morning start on a farm, a strong arm to work laboriously in the dawn a yawn, Not a plight, a fun bright light, not at night, eat eggs and buttered toast, no crime, instead pleasingly sublime.
An egg, not wed, a yellow egg a yolk, an ox stampeding bull, buffaloes shouldered in heavy wooden yokes, not wool, a piercing of the nose of the ox, Nova Scotia Red Lox. A bagel? Be. Cream cheese, cottage cheese, Wisconsin cheese, Muenster and Brick.
The Bobbsey Twins, books to read, volumes upon volumes, a rare book collection, dusty musty ol' books, graduate college with good looks. Blue robes, cap and gown. The Talmud, a King's crown, one page per day, to carry great advice your way.
To remember when you were slender, full meals of simply one. A piece of cheese a tomato lettuce. God is good God is Great, let us eat, so we ate. How many? Eight. A brown paper lunch bag to carry not a lag. Not a chore, not boiling anymore. A sandwich consumed on the brown sandy beach, nowhere to be found a blood sucking leech. Each week a blood draw, an arm not the hand, yes, we own this land. Prosperity. Our property. No Trespassing. Sign, sign, everywhere a sign, a holy message, a Miracle, it's sweetly lyrical.
Sweetly singing Mary Poppins, a threaded red bobbin, a red-breasted Robin. "Just one spoonful of sugar and the medicine goes down." An English housekeeper Nanny to speak Hebrew as coffee she brew. An ol' pal to sing America the Beautiful. A hornet's honey jar full. Winnie the Pooh and Eyore too. The bumbling of a bee. Surrounding the branches of a tree, a baby's cradle, a chicken noodle soup ladle.
Hey! No, Hello. No Hi. In agreement? No debate. A companion to be your quill. A breakfast bowl of oatmeal dancing with blueberries to be your fill. Put him at your right side, to have a Friend, no end, a driver in a limousine ride as your guide. Where do you want to go? Not into the ice and snow.
A desert deserted land, wandering, wondering, Baked Alaska ice cream, nice, chocolaty minty green. Far away? Just a Skype no hype.
The word Content, how can we feel this way, what can we do to know we fit in our shoe. To be an old woman who lives in a shoe, so many kids she didn't know what to do. A plastic cup a warmed milk bottle, sipping and slurping, a straw that curls like a whip as you flip. Stoning, burning, excommunication, fears of ghosts.
What is a ghost? Ghosts are figments of the imagination, if we imagine them, does this cause their existence? Do ghosts make us feel content. Movies of vampires, haunted houses. Why is there a war against ghosts. Candles lit to scare them away. To have lightness by day but blackness by night. How to win the fight? Will winning the fight cause content? Imagine a Loch-Ness Monster, actually, no, see him not. A giant fish to swallow Jonah, to create one's home anywhere everywhere, not to be homeless, not telephone-less.
Back to contentedness. Content to live in a tent. A home for a homing pigeon.
Are there or aren't there ghosts. If a ghost is nice to you, do you keep him or do you chase him away. God importantly to say honor only He, not to eat if it doesn't chew its cud. Do you feel the restless spirit in an Angus burger? A bull beating and biting, stampeding as he is torn apart by your ripping gripping teeth, to be swallowed into your sickly stomach as his soul tries to fight to get out.
To burp like a baby as his soul descends from inside your esophagus outside to the air it ends.
How many souls? We as humans have two. An animal soul on the left side, as sitra achra, and a divine soul on the right side. Healthy and happy. If you forget about Jerusalem, your right hand will stop working, cease to create, become dust an all metal crust that is really just red rust.
Is the non-kosher beef beast kicking in your stomach, screaming screeching seething "Release me!" a child to force out. Married just a year saddled with a child, yes, I fear.
Can we say a prayer to ease this situation? A prayer for this cow, to feel content now. To be the horse to buck him off?
A feeling, an emotion, from the heart "Yes, Beth, you can use lotion." A Shabbat or a holy day, a smooth aromatic lotion, a potion happiness to happen on your skin. To kiss lip gloss, coconut, taste your lunch hours after eating.
Not to drink milk before eating meat! Wait four hours. Eat meat and drink milk after eating meat, not before. Your stomach otherwise will be in a War. Guts growling, a fierce fight: morning noon and night.
To must release this ghost who is not your host. A health condition, Leprosy spit as gossip not the most. Prosperity and fruition. Addition, subtraction, not division. Exorcise, out a ghost, not to exercise on a post. Not a Barn Swallow to wallow. A white seagull, and a brave eagle. Hunches like on a Hawk. A Penguin father to stay and lay on the eggs. Father's rights? Yes, alimony, he must pay, this today.
A family man, contented, his Fatherly Love honored, not prevented. A fruitful marriage, him to drive the baby carriage.
A weekly trip to a farmer's fruit market, a place to find all very fresh, newly picked fruits to have enough vitamin C, absorbic acid, juiciness but not in liquid form, to slurp the sweet fluid from a pomegranate avoiding the white bitter surroundings of the crimson red seeds. To be a Kohen Gadol to have these pomegranates and then large gonging bells one after the other on the hem of one's stark white tunic skirt, dangling, like a cow's bell, bronze, brass, ding a ling a ling!
The color pink, to be a "nerd" as a doctor or scientist, to have these pink and purple plaid colored pants, with a pink dress shirt to match, to wear round wire-frame black eyeglasses or large plastic black eyeglasses, to go by a hyphenated last name, to be married as a man to a man. A nerd? A fruit? A piece of round bubble gum named Nerds, to be a doctor to chew this gum proudly, to feel the sweetness of being a fruit and eating fruit, to eat pomegranates to say "I am Jewish and I am married to a same sex partner." And to be proud of coming out!!
A shirt that says PINK on it, a T-shirt, a shirt that says pink but the word "pink" is written in a pure white color. To now finally after years of fighting hate crimes, bombs exploding in pubs, men who love men and women who love women can marry each other, to have legal protective rights, to have a document of marriage like a diploma from a university, to prove oneself, to be someone who loves one's fellow, and to receive this love back. To have love and to be lovers, to marry one's lover.
To have a matrimony wedding with a shooting cocoa fountain of pouring oozing chocolate syrup, to dip fresh fruits into this smooth syrup as it drizzles up and then down guided by gravity into a bowl dripping beneath. To take a red seed-spotted strawberry, a piece of wishy-washy wonderful watermelon! Cut plums both rich in red and black shininess, beautiful blueberries, ringing raspberries, coated dark super semi-sweet chocolate truffles, to dunk, to grasp, with a pointed wooden toothpick. To twirl these fruits in the air and to then pop one into your mouth, let it dissolve in your saliva, to move your tongue around it as it then is easily swallowed.
To love the color pink, to love your same-sex marital partner, your husband or wife, a significant other and to enjoy your chocolate cocoa powder, to be a nerd, to be proud of it, as you are a doctor or PhD student, to be a highly educated Nerd, to live on the Gold Coast, to own a golden wristwatch, to love this color pink, even greater when pink is mixed with purple and when you are eating grapes. To leave some grapes in the vineyard, those fallen to be eaten for free by the poor. To set aside 10% of your harvest (taxes) for charity to the poor.
Sweetness, pinkness, vitamin C, glorified, to come in peace and richness. Wonderment.
